To pee or not to pee: that is the question

The title says it all.

Saturday morning at work - with a couple of stories yet to be filed, a few more pages yet to be designed and a few more complaints yet to be heard, the question in title seems far important at the moment than anything else. After all, Saturday is the day when our office building would not get any water supply :P

Well, I got to know that this is going to be dry Saturday yesterday itself when I read a notice put up next to the lifts. Later on during the day, a colleague of mine jumped into office saying "you know there wouldn't be any water tomorrow"!!!

Anyway, I had almost forgotten about it until today morning while on my way to office I got an SMS from another colleague wishing me "a lovely day at Sahara", no water at Sahara - the desert and no water here. What a parallel, I must say. Just made my day aah, so amazing. Anyway, it has just been a few hours since I have landed in office and there are a couple of more hours to go. The only compensation is that you aren't the only one here.

My Idea of Perfect Love

Everyone has his or her own notion of perfect love. Well, mine was the one between Modesty Blaise and Willie Garvin – the duo from Peter O’Donnell’s Modesty Blaise series.

They were not married. They did not make any romantic declarations. Nor do anything remotely romantic – no candlelight dinners, no flowers, no passionate kisses, no twisting in the sheets....nix!

No, they were just there for each other. Time and time again. Whether it was getting the other out of a spot of trouble, tending to a wound, or just terminating the lives of some ladies (and many gentlemen) who had dared harm one of them. They thought on the same lines, quite often not even needing to talk to communicate – a look sufficed. It was a relationship that very few people (if any at all) understood. They were not lovers in the strictest sense of the word, but were closer than perhaps two lovers ever could be. To her, he was “Willie, love” and to him, she was always “Princess.”

Willie Garvin perhaps summed it up best in the first book of the series (Modesty Blaise) when he was asked if he did not feel bad about seeing Modesty Blaise in the arms of another man:

“I’m a different page of the book to Hagan (Modesty’s lover at that time).But if you come right down to it, I bet he’d rather be where I am than where is.”

Aye, that’s love all right. In my book, that is.

Some people want to be Prince Charming. Others aspire to be Casanovas. Still others dream of being tall, dark and handsome (and these days, utterly unshaven) hunks.

Me? I would be content to be someone’s Willie Garvin.

Friends :)

Anu (Model, Varno Ma, Mudit's darling - I run out of the names we call her), Me, Rohit, Mudit

(From left to right)

Friends :)

Donny, me, Alex, Isha and Buddha

(From left to right)

The Personal vs Professional Debate

Should one judge a friend by what he or she does as a professional? It is a question that has puzzled me for years. I really envy the people who go about claiming that they keep professional and personal issues apart. For my part, I have failed spectacularly in doing so.

This has been particularly the case over the past few months. My relationship with some of my closest friends has been strained purely because of what they did on a professional level – things which ranged from rank insensitivity to grossly irresponsible behaviour. My other friends told me that I was being stupid and that I should not really worry about what a person does as long as it does not affect my personal relationship with him/her. But is that really possible?

Two of the foundations of friendship are trust and mutual respect. How on earth does one respect someone who goes about doing something that might harm other people or even society in general. Yes, one can excuse such extreme behaviour if the person involved had no other choice – one has, after all, to survive. But if the person does something wrong cold-bloodedly and what’s worse, thinks that he/she has actually done the right thing...well, that’s different, isn’t it?

Of course, there have been the usual accusations against me – who am I to judge others, especially my friends; why don’t I trust my friends blindly; why should I worry about what my friends do as long as it does not affect me, etc. To all this, there’s a straightforward answer – I love my friends, but I also detest anything that I feel is fundamentally wrong. And truth be told, I would find it very difficult to like somebody who I felt was involved in something that harmed others. Call it an exaggerated sense of honour, call it being holier-than-thou, or what you will; it is just the way I am. For me, personal and professional lives can never be separated because, hey, they involve the same person. How on earth can you like someone who has a very nice nature and is impeccably behaved, but files false reports in publications without any qualms?

Yes, I do love my friends, but I do not subscribe to the ‘love is blind’ doctrine. I prefer to keep my eyes open, thank you very much. And I would rather have a few honest acquaintances around me than a bunch of loyal but professionally dishonest friends.

“I am good!” Duh...

“Hi! How are you? I am good!”

I wish I had a penny for every time I have heard that daft bit of conversation. The standard response to how one was used to be “I am fine,” but for some reason, it has since graduated to “I am good.” Now, the fact is that while one of the dictionary meanings of “fine” is “in good health and feeling well,” “good” has no such meaning. In fact, when you say a person is “good,” you seldom mean that he or she is in good health. You are more likely to be referring to his or her character or nature or their ability in a particular skill.

So, why the blazes do so many people bleat “I am good,” when asked about the state of their health? What do they say when they are ill? “Hi! I am bad”?

I know the defenders of modern speech will be up in arms and will holler that I am raising a non-issue and what one says matters little as long as the meaning is conveyed. And that is a fair point, especially when one is dealing with complex terms and jargon, but I fail to see how saying “I am good” is more convenient than saying “I am fine” - the latter is in fact a shorter sentence! “I am good” reeks more of a statement of character than of health.

Of course, I am sure that, stupid and irrelevant as it is, it will continue to grow in usage. Maybe a year from now, we will hear “How are you? I am excellent!”

Trust us to muck up a simple language!

Hoping for a Good Year

I tend to consider my birthday as a New Year’s Day (hell, my year begins on that day!) and so, after I had counted presents (and told seven different friends how it felt to be 36) , I sat down and did something that I have done religiously for more than a dozen years now – went through the twelve months that had just passed, searching for highs and lows and trying to see if there were any lessons to be learnt.

They were perhaps among the most event-filled months I have lived in for a while. In purely emotional terms, this was a year I would love to forget. In October 2006, I was very close to four people. By July 2007, I could not trust any of them (although I remain on talking terms with three). I also ended up reducing my involvement in an organisation to which I owed a lot and one that I never thought I would leave. Twelve months is a long time.

Of course, there were positives. I think I did some of my best writing (which is not saying much, really) in the January-July 2007 period. I read a lot, spent more time with my friends, made a few new friends, and rediscovered some old ones. I also rediscovered my love for music – something I had lost way back in 1999.

And there were quite a few lessons to be learned too. A friend said I need to be more assertive and should seek, rather than avoid, confrontation. Another says I should also stop being shy and self-conscious. A third suggests that I stop under-rating my work and stop being ‘such a modest blighter.’ Other suggestions included thinking less, partying more, reading less, developing a taste for alcohol...feel free to add to the list. Just remember that it is rather difficult for a 36-year-old to change.

Not surprisingly, all the turmoil of the past few months has made me steer clear of making any resolutions for my forthcoming year. Yes, there are things I would like to do and words I would like to say, or like to hear others say. Most of all, I would perhaps like to be able to trust one person the way I trusted four barely a few months ago. Will it happen? I don’t really know. And to be honest, I am not too optimistic. But while I can make no resolutions, I can perhaps hope.

Twelve months, after all, is a long time.